Great Minds (Terrible Yes, but Great) Think Alike
by I. H. Scribe
Summary: Upon reflection, Mycroft Holmes would eventually decide that the worst day of his life was today, when Sherlock met the Weasley twins. Harry Potter would find that almost as amusing as the three's antics when he eventually got around to telling him.
1. A Meeting of the Minds

Fandoms: Harry Potter, Sherlcok

Characters: Sherlock Holmes, Mycroft Holmes, Fred Weasley, George Weasley

Prompt: In which the Holmes and Weasley brothers (twins only) meet and Mycroft rather wishes his brother hadn't met the siblings that give Sherlock a run for his money when it comes to their love for experiments.

Prompt Made By: Terri'smind

Disclaimer: I don't own the following series(es) or any character(s) that follow, and unless _I. H. Scribe_ is listed after _Prompt Made By_ chances are I don't own the idea for this story either.

* * *

Mycroft wasn't particularly happy to be stuck with his younger brother for the day. He had only recently acquired his new job as what Sherlock would eventually come to call the British Government. He didn't have the time to babysit his newly suspended-from-school (again) brother.

He had an important meeting with his equivalent in the wizard's government – one Harry Potter – and Sherlock was bound to get himself into trouble. Mycroft sat Sherlock down into one of the seats outside Potter's office.

"Do not move, or I'll tell Mummy, understand?" he told Sherlock.

"Yes, fine," Sherlock said, giving him an irritated look. Mycroft narrowed his eyes at Sherlock, but entered Potter's office anyway. Picking Sherlock up from school had nearly made him late as it was.

* * *

Mycroft and Harry had spent the better part of an hour discussing the current policy of cooperation between their governments – that is, little to none – when a scuffle outside interrupted their conversation. Hermione kicked the door open.

"I can't deal with them anymore!" she screamed, shoving both the Weasley twins into the office, before storming down the hall.

Harry sighed. "Would you two mind waiting outside for now?"

"Sure, Harry," Fred said.

"We'll wait," George said.

"Don't make me track you down," Harry warned them, before turning back to Mycroft. "Now, where were we?"

Upon reflection, Mycroft Holmes would eventually decide that the worst day of his life was today, when Sherlock met the Weasley twins. Harry Potter would find that almost as amusing as the three's antics when he eventually got around to telling him.

* * *

"So what did you do?" Fred asked.

"I blew up a toilet," Sherlock said.

"A toilet?" George asked, with an appalled look on his face.

Fred mirrored George's face and said, "A single toilet? What sort of trouble maker are you?"

"Couldn't you have managed a classroom?"

"Or the headmaster's office?"

"No, he couldn't, Fred," George said. "All he could manage was a toilet."

"A _toilet_."

"I did the headmaster's office at my last school. This one's secretary checks my pockets before letting me anywhere near it," Sherlock said.

"Now that's more like it, eh George?"

"Oh, much better."

"And you two have done better?" Sherlock asked, with an exaggerated sniff.

"Oh, have we," George said.

"Let us tell you a tale," Fred said.

"Multiple tales," George argued.

"Multiple tales," Fred agreed, "of our amazing exploits."

* * *

Once Sherlock was allowed to return to school, less than three full school days had passed before Mycroft received another call from the headmaster.

"He did what?"

...

"A swamp, where?"

...

"How did he even manage that?"

...

"Well, maybe your teachers should pay more attention to their students sneaking out of class!"

After the headmaster hung up, Mycroft turned to his new assistant, Anthea – a name which he would find out in the future that his constantly-name-changing assistant was fond of and would use several times – and said, "I swear I need to get that boy a professional babysitter. How on earth did he get a swamp into the middle of the cafeteria?"

His phone began ringing again, and he answered it with an irritated, "What?"

...

"Now is not the time to play games, Potter."

...

"In the? Is that where he got the swamp?"

...

"Oh, for the love of... They are never allowed to meet again."

...

"What do you mean too late?"

* * *

When he got home, Mycroft found Sherlock and Mummy sitting at the dining room table with the Weasley twins and Potter himself.

"Mycroft," his mother said. "Just in time for dinner. These are Sherlock's friends, Fred and George, and I've been assured that you've already met Harry."

"Quite."

"Sit, sit. I'll get you a plate."

Harry mouthed 'I am so sorry,' at him, but his wide grin said he didn't really mean it. Mycroft glared at him and the Weasley twins until his mother returned.

* * *

It got worse.

Mummy, of course, didn't seem to mind the explosions and various house-shudders that came from Sherlock's room. Her baby boy had finally made friends, and she was very happy for him.

Mycroft, on the other hand, could barely keep up with preventing Sherlock and his new friends from burning the house down around them on top of being the British Government, _and_ dealing with the Magical British Government being oh so _amused_ over the entire situation.

He was about ready to pull out what little hair hadn't already fallen out due to stress.

* * *

Three weeks after the swamp incident (and another suspension), Sherlock somehow managed to paint the entire school rainbow-colored overnight. Splashes of glitter were added to random walls. He was suspended again, when he refused to tell the headmaster how he had done it, or how to get the color off the walls.

The school was still rainbow-colored.

* * *

On the first morning after Sherlock's newest suspension, Mycroft found his hair dyed bright pink. The day after that, his pee turned bright blue.

Harry suggested he prank him back, and Sherlock ended up with a rainbow-colored afro and a large red clown nose.

It didn't help.

* * *

The morning Sherlock finally went back to school, Mycroft awoke to loud noises. He finally tracked down all the noise makers – strange-shaped creatures with trumpets for heads – throwing them, still making noises, out the window.

He moved to his own apartment before Sherlock came home, and no amount of cajoling and insistence from Mummy would convince him to move back.

* * *

There will be at least one more chapter after this one.

As always, I am accepting prompts, however, I am not accepting prompts through reviews. If you wish to give me a prompt, please see the Accepting Prompts section of my profile for instructions. Thank you.

I. H. Scribe


	2. Code Twins

Fandoms: Harry Potter, Sherlock

Characters: John Watson, Fred Weasley, George Weasley

Prompt: one day after John moves in the twins come to call and John quickly learns why Mycroft turned pale before running out of the flat. Sherlock comments that he has never before seen his brother move that fast.

Prompt Made By: Terri'smind

Disclaimer: I don't own the following series(es) or any character(s) that follow, and unless _I. H. Scribe_ is listed after _Prompt Made By_ chances are I don't own the idea for this story either.

* * *

The door bursting open had John reaching for his gun that was not in fact in the nonexistent waist holster he was reaching for out of habit.

With shouts of, "Sherlock!" two red-headed twins came barreling into the room. Sherlock grinned – actually grinned – which alone would have set John's mental _Here We Go Again_ meter to _Code Red_.

Said meter went from _We're Okay_, _There's A Case_, _We Need Milk_ (which itself had two levels – _We're Actually Out_ and _Sherlock Did Something To It_), _Head In The Refrigerator_, _Not My Teapot Again_ (which itself had five levels – _It Only Needs Washing_, _What Is That_, _Oh My God It Moved_, _Needs Replacing Immediately_, and _Murder Sherlock And Hide Somewhere Before Mycroft Finds Out And Tells Mummy_ – they actually hadn't gotten to that last one, yet), _Moriarty's At It Again_, _Sherlock Is Bored_, all the way up to _Code Red_.

Mycroft paling, and practically running from the room would also have sent out a _Code Red_ on its own. With both happening, John sort of hoped that this was a dream. He pinched himself. It wasn't a dream then.

"I don't think I've ever seen him run that fast," Sherlock said.

"Really?" Twin #1 asked.

"What about the thing we did when your mum set us on him?" Twin #2 asked. Sherlock paused for a few moments and then shook his head.

"No. This time was much faster.

"What about that time we visited you at college?" Twin #1 asked. Sherlock paused again.

"No. Still faster this time."

"Hmm, we'll have to try to top this speed then," Twin #2 said.

"Dad always told us to set goals that would challenge us," Twin #1 agreed. The two nodded and turned to John.

"Hello," they said together.

"John, meet Fred and George Weasley," Sherlock said. "Minions, meet John Watson."

"Minions?" Fred, John thought, exclaimed.

"I thought we agreed you were the minion," George said.

"We did," Sherlock said, "until such time that I could outdo one of you."

"You didn't," Fred said.

"You couldn't," George said.

"I did," Sherlock said. "I put a head in the refrigerator."

"An actual, _human_ head?" Fred asked.

"I call dragonshit," George said.

"He did," John confirmed. "Which wasn't nearly as bad as what he put in my teapot and whatever he keeps doing to the milk."

"That was an experiment," Sherlock said.

John ignored him. "If either of you two, or in fact, any of you three touch my teapot ever again, I will murder you painfully."

"Can he do that?" George asked.

"Surely not," Fred said.

"He can," Sherlock confirmed.

"So no touching the teapot then," George said.

"We can live with that," Fred said.

* * *

Sherlock and the twins moved to their conversation to Sherlock's bedroom. John spent the afternoon reading the newspaper slowly, while sipping tea and ignoring the explosions and strange noises that came from Sherlock's bedroom. The twins left several hours later, leaving Sherlock with purple hair, and one of them with black hair while the other had white hair.

Somehow, over the course of their visit with Sherlock, despite not being in the same room as John himself, the three miscreants had managed to dye his hair neon blue, his skin bright green, and his clothes hot pink, on top of the purple bunny ears he now head growing out of his head.

John sighed, sipped his tea, and mentally set a _Code Twins_ level above _Code Red_.

* * *

College and Mummy Holmes' request are coming up, along with other ones. Terri'smind gave me a lot of them.

As always, I am accepting prompts, however, I am not accepting prompts through reviews. If you wish to give me a prompt, please see the Accepting Prompts section of my profile for instructions. Thank you.

I. H. Scribe


	3. Mummy Issues

Fandoms: Sherlock, Harry Potter

Characters: Sherlock Holmes, Mummy Holmes, Mycroft Holmes, Weasley Twins

Prompt: Mummy Holmes reminiscences on a prank she, her youngest, and his red haired friends pulled on her eldest shortly after he moved out. No one refuses Mummy Holmes without some sort of compensation due.

Prompt Made By: Terri'smind

Disclaimer: I don't own the following series(es) or any character(s) that follow, and unless _I. H. Scribe_ is listed after _Prompt Made By_ chances are I don't own the idea for this story either.

* * *

"Oh, come now Mycroft," Mummy said. "It isn't that bad."

"If I'm forced to move back Mummy, you'll only have one son by the end of the day, and it _won't_ be Sherlock," Mycroft said half-heartedly. He'd never actually kill his younger brother – perhaps maim, or grievously injure, but never kill.

"Oh for heaven's sake Mycroft."

"I have to go Mummy. I have a meeting."

"Mycroft Holmes, don't you dare-!" Mycroft hung up, wincing. That was going to come back to haunt him, he just knew it would.

* * *

Sherlock was surprised when Mummy entered his room. He and his friends Fred and George were both surprised when she told them her suggestion.

If Mycroft were to have seen the grins on the faces of Fred, George, and Sherlock he would have been on his way to a meeting conveniently taking place in another country.

* * *

Mycroft's first clue that something was wrong was his hat flying away from him. There was only a small breeze, not even big enough to knock the hat off his head, much less take off with it. Mycroft shook it off as nothing. He'd been meaning to get a new hat anyway.

Mycroft's second clue that something was wrong was when his teacup – his favorite teacup – bit his nose. Andrea – today's name for his name changing assistant – found it far more amusing then he did.

Mycroft's third clue was when his replacement drink – orange juice – turned into fizz that immediately and quickly shot up his nose.

Mycroft decided something had to be done.

* * *

Mycroft strode into Harry's office, still smelling nothing but oranges, with a bruise beginning to grow on his nose.

"Looks like you've had an encounter with a biting teacup," Harry said, smiling. Mycroft glared at him, and Harry's eyebrows shot up. "You _did_ have an encounter with a biting teacup?"

"And orange juice that shot up my nose."

"Oh dear. I'll make you some tea, without the biting part."

Mycroft pretended he didn't hear Harry's snickering.

* * *

Under Harry's advice, Mycroft returned home to confront Sherlock and his miscreant friends. His mother met him at the door, and led him to the kitchen.

"Here Mycroft dear, have a custard crème," she said, pushing a plate filled with them towards him. Had Mycroft noticed Sherlock and the Weasley Twins peeking their heads around the corner, he would have been far more suspicious.

Mycroft erupted into feathers. It was a specially-made Canary Crème that wouldn't let him molt for an hour, giving his mother plenty of time to scold him for hanging up on her.

"Really, Mycroft, you should know better than to hang up on your mother," Mummy said. "The boys' were awfully put out by it."

Mycroft huffed through his nose, doing his best to ignore Sherlock and the Twins laughter in the other room.

"The looks on their faces while they were planning to avenge me were utterly terrifying," Mummy continued.

_There were looks?_ Mycroft thought. That single thought would become the reason he had anywhere Sherlock resided bugged with cameras and audio recorders.

As soon as he molted he hightailed it out of the manor, but not before giving into his mother's demands of monthly visits.

* * *

As always, I am accepting prompts, however, I am not accepting prompts through reviews. If you wish to give me a prompt, please see the Accepting Prompts section of my profile for instructions. Thank you.

I. H. Scribe


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